Other Things
by Fandom Flicker
Summary: Four people have gotten the letter. Four people have responded. One person is calling the shots
1. Chapter 1

**HI! NEW** **STORY** **ENJOY!** *FLASHES OUT OF EXISTENC

 **DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN LEVERAGE *JUMPS INTO A POOL***

DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-I-KNOW-THIS-SEESMS-WEIRD-BUT-I'M-PRETTY-HAPPY-RIGHT-NOW-SO-SORRY-NOT-SORRY-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DO

Sophie Deveraux was enjoying a Paris shopping day when she first got the letter. It was sitting innocently on her table; with a lump of wax sealing it. Swallowing hard, she picked it up like it was delicate. "You're…" she paused in her sentence, swallowing hard. "What are you?" Her fingers danced over the edges, like if one wrong move could affect everything. She slapped the letter down, rubbing her face before swallowing hard again.

She opened the letter.

* * *

Parker was next. She saw it lying on her desk and was surprised. No one really managed to get past her decoy safe houses but this person did. She wondered who it was from before throwing it away. It looked too old-timey for her to keep or read anyway. It was boring, so why'd she need to keep it?

The next day, it was sitting on her couch in another safe house at Indiana this time. It had more wax dribbled on the side to make it seem creative. She examined the outside for a moment before tossing it again. "It's still boring," she told the empty place. And - again - she wondered who and how they got past her defenses and _another six decoy houses_.

How many times did she have to get the same boring letter? She barely even read it; but the way it's been showing up at her places (all in different styles but still boring) it seemed like it wanted something. Maybe for her to read it? But it was _boring_. Until it showed up dark blue with drizzles of wax looking like candy and smelling like cinnamon. That's when Parker opened the stupid letter.

* * *

Alec didn't expect to find the letter in his computer. It just showed up as an e-mail labeled with weird dots and symbols which he promptly put into the spam box and deleted it quickly. It didn't matter if it spiked his curiosity just slightly.

He could've traced it, but for what reason? It was just spam; and even if it was something important, then they'd either resend it; or leave him alone. There was nothing to say about it.

Of course when he got it again, only this time labeled with even more dots and symbols, he was a little surprised. Were they communicating with Morse code? Maybe they needed a hacker? After all it was sent to him, again.

So, Alec Hardison took a deep breath and opened the E-mail.

* * *

Eliot Spencer hated having to open mail. It was his least favorite thing to do (besides dealing with idiots who didn't even know how to throw a punch). With a sigh, he sat down and ran his fingers through his hair. "Alright," he said quietly, pulling out with a flourish a simple letter. Wax dotted it's corners in this delicate design. He paused before sliding his finger underneath the wax that sealed it.

"Let's get this nightmare over with," Eliot sighed before ripping off the wax and opening the letter.

* * *

 _Dear Whoever is Reading This,_

 _Time is short. People are closing in on me. I've only just begun to scratch the surface of this thing. It's something that isn't human; something much much more complicated. Unfortunately, I've been discovered and they're searching for me right now._

 _It's nothing to be afraid of. I knew this day would come. Knew the moment that_ _ **he**_ _crashed into my home. But, now, I'm here to tell you to save him. My machines will continue to spit out this letter; with different things over and over again until you responded._

 _I will attempt to give you details. Things to do to find him. But you're going to have to figure it out on your own too. I can't always baby you. Go, and find him. Find the thing that crashed into my land; free him and help him go home._


	2. Chapter 2

Sometimes, Sophie liked to view the world as a scale balance. One wrong move and it tips and goes awry. But after reading the letter that someone written to her (although she didn't know who) asking her to help someone was a little too much. She didn't even know who this person is - he could be just a prankster trying to get something funny for YouTube.

Sophie knew the balance of the world. Her "gift" was to read people; to stare and see beneath the film layers of lies, and things. That was what her mother used to tell her, brushing dark hair out of her eyes. "Without us," she'd say quietly. "The world would go up in flames.

Sophie knew there were people out there with her same "gift" but it didn't matter. She'd always get past them; through their defences; and to their fortune in a heartbeat. "You're different," her mother would claim. "You're gift is something that… isn't seen naturally." And then Sophie would be ordered to "train" by her great-grandmother who was a tough woman.

"You don't understand, sweetheart," her grandmother would coo from the couch. "If _I_ can't catch you in a con, then you're okay. If I can, you'll get bread with butter tonight." Sophie wrinkled her nose even now, in a cab going to who-knows-where.

The cab just pulled up in front of her house, a letter tucked into the backseat. She turned to the cab driver, hoping to get some answers. She found out that he was just paid to come and drive the cab. Nothing more, nothing else.

A deep breath, and a sigh. Sophie's fingers broke the seal.

* * *

Parker views the world as some kind of jewel. And she's the one to steal it. Without people like her, the world wouldn't be on their toes; they would all be cut-throat and lazy, forcing other people to do their dirty work. Parker makes them think before they send their guys; forcing them to overestimate her. Or underestimate.

And with a snap, she'd get the thing she came for and be gone. Her own little "gift" from the world. Being practically a shadow, never being seen, never being caught. It gave Parker this thrill that made her so, so happy. There were people out there who'd rather use her gift for… evil. What Parker does is not evil. She steals, to get a thrill and to survive. People like her, they steal just to steal.

She was taught by an old man who didn't reveal his name but taught her everything. When she'd collapse in exhaustion, he'd be there telling her stories and things about his home life. Eventually, the old man was taken away by people who Parker knew wanted her.

Maybe it was because she stole their prize possession - the Peacock. This big, multi-colored diamond that looked like a peacock's tail. She took it, and they thought the old man did it and took him and the last thing she heard him scream was for her to run, and hide and not to look back.

She watched him die. A shot to the head. In front of his whole neighborhood, his wife and child. She learned his name that day. "Archie," she now tested on her tongue, rolling the syllables. The man who'd taught her everything.

She had gotten in a plane, her fingers gripping the edge and viewing the world as ants below. The letter was fluttering in the sky and she reached out, snatching it. She glanced at the pilot who seemed none the wiser and stared at it for a moment. It was no longer blue, with drizzles of wax and smelling like cinnamon. It looked just like a letter, but Parker knew it was much more now.

With just a hairbreadth of hesitation, Parker took the letter out of the envelope.

* * *

Alec viewed the world as a computer game. A cheat here, a hack there, and he'd get everything he wanted. His own little legacy to leave behind. He'd flicker through the cheats faster; and play the game the way he wanted to play it. No one could stop him; nothing could pause him. Not since his Nana died.

Maybe she'd be upset he's working for "evil" instead of good. But what is truly evil? Alec's just trying to get by, and he doesn't want to work for someone who just wanted him under his/her thumb. He'd rather be free; and happy, then chained and depressed.

But it really wasn't his fault. After his Nana died his foster siblings scattered around the world. They didn't have a good word to their name and no one believed that they were good children who just needed a good home. "Here's some money, brother." They said, shoving some bills in his hand. "Get as far away as possible. We _will_ regroup. Just not now," and his brother shoved him away to his sister.

She took him away from Nana. He was crying, screaming for his Nana. He was sixteen years old but acted like he was two. He tried to jump out of the car, but was met with child safety locks and his cries fell on deaf ears. He was taken away from his home and put on a plane to New York. His sister had left him and Alec had begun using his brains/hacking power to survive.

Eventually, he got enough money (eighteen now) to go back home and visit his Nana's grave. (There wasn't anything there; not a mark.) (He learned, years later, that she wasn't buried but cremated.) (One of his brother had her; he just didn't know who.) (His sisters had refused it, telling people that they couldn't take it away from their brothers who knew her more than they did.) (He wasn't even mentioned.)

Now, he's being taken to a place he didn't even know existed (The coding in the email was so complex, even _he_ couldn't crack it.) He is sitting in a electronic, computer-run car with a computer screen sitting next to him. An email popped up, and Alec scrambled to open it.

With a quick breath of relief, Alec's fingers opened the email and began to read.

* * *

Eliot viewed the world as a cold, harsh reality. The things he'd seen, the things he'd done. He'd already given the world a taste; and the world had given him a dose right back. Eliot didn't believe in miraculous, things that seemed "perfect" weren't really. There are always consequences to his actions; whether good or bad.

He'd enlisted in the army, and got to fight for his country. Eliot's brother, on the other hand, was drafted. Eliot was "injured" and brought back home where he'd then run away. How couldn't he? His brother was gone, his father a shell of what he used to be (no longer proud or prideful; now just spiteful and angry. At Eliot.)

Eliot _lived_. Jake, his sweet innocent, glue-of-the-family Jake, _died_. While Eliot, screw-up, stupid, black-sheep-of-the-family, crazy Eliot survived. And Eliot had _run_. Run faster than he'd ever run before straight into the Mafia. He'd stayed with them a couple of years before moving on; keeping an eye on his back.

He was alone with nothing except his thoughts. And they were crushing. How much his father despised that Eliot survived yet his brother had died. How much harder is was to just be in the family house without Jake's constant babble. And Eliot didn't know what to do.

He'd gotten a small apartment and (somehow) a letter that shouldn't have known where he was had gotten to him. He'd opened it and read it and thought it was a stupid thing. But it was also a good thing. Now he was riding on bus , a letter tied (with a pink bow) on seat in front of him; the bus driver telling him that he didn't know who put the letter there; he couldn't remember every single face.

Eliot, slightly angry, tore open the letter (ripping apart the envelope in the process) and shook open the letter before beginning to read.

* * *

 _To Whomever is reading this,_

 _Congratulations. Now that you're in your place, you must remember to be brave. Use your gift._

 _A little background (so you don't go in blind). There's three other people you're going to be working with. Work together and work quickly. The first assignment will be given to you once you have all been introduced. You will have to think about your first assingment and form a plan. Carry out the plan quickly and effictivly. I have faith in you. I hope everything goes okay._

 _Don't be late. And don't think everything is going to be this easy_

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Leverage**

 **Oh, my god. *Cracks fingers* I've gotten an update schedule for this story (and this story only, I think). This is a pretty okay story so far, I think. Reviews are golden and make me wanna update faster :D**.

 **I've got about three chapters of this already worked out from how I _want_ it to go in my brain. But I'll probably change some things. Like when the reveal the letter writer. ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

Sophie cracked her fingers. She'd arrived a little later than the letter intended. But the person should've know especially when they'd placed her on a jet and just took off. But maybe being just a couple minutes late wouldn't matter, one of the others could be hours late.

That wasn't the case. She'd entered the room, completely ready to put on a fake mask, play under a fake name, keeping herself separate from them. She came into two people arguing. One of them had long brown hair, and the other had short black hair. "All I'm sayin' is that you might be the letter person!" The black-haired one accused and the brown-haired one spoke with a southern twang and voice laced with anger. "I don't know who sent those letters and I'm sure as hell not them!"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Boys," she muttered. Of course they're boys; when aren't they boys? Those immature little boys who think they're men but argue all the time about the stupidest things - like football games or which heist to use. The southern one heard her and whirled around. "It's probably her!" He snarled at the other guy who just glared at him, then at her. "I'm not the letter sender," Sophie hissed.

The guys didn't look convinced. "I don't even know you!" Sophie exclaimed. "It's true," came another voice from the ceiling. "She doesn't know you. Her eyes widened when she noticed you; she seemed surprised when she realized that you're arguing. She's confused. Just like you."

* * *

Parker's comment drove them all to look at her. She wanted to snort. Why did people always look up before backing away from her? " _It gets people killed, Parker."_ Archie had said, smoothing her hair down. " _Whenever you hear a voice from above; back away. Don't look up. Look up when you've backed away far enough."_ That was all the warning she'd gotten before something slammed into her from the ceiling (it didn't hurt; it was just a net of pencils and pens).

The woman's eyes followed Parker's movements as she climbed down. "Parker," she said her eyes following the southern one (" _If they're quiet, or loud. Calm or rageful, nice or mean, they're all a threat to you. But, watch for the quieter ones, Parker. They're the ones who love a good fight.)_ "My name's Parker," she repeated.

"Good." The woman's voice cut through crisp and clear. Parker turned to look at the woman with care. _("Women are man's greatest weakness. A man's lust could be his downfall. Parker, you might have to learn these skills. But not yet. You're far too young. But, a woman could also be another woman's downfall; just as man could be another man's downfall.")_

The woman's finger tapped a rhythm against her own arm. "My name is Sophie." She said and Parker's eyes slid to 'gamer' (he'd been talking to himself. Did he think no one was there?) _("A person who loves games is easy to manipulate. Just pretend you're one of them. And they'll be eating out of the palm of your hand.")_ The gamer's eyes met her's and he nodded just slightly. "I'm Hardison." He said dully.

The last one didn't seem to care. _("A person not caring cannot be manipulated. You, as yourself, are a caring person. It's human nature. But a person who can take_ _ **away**_ _those feelings;_ _ **lock them away**_ _; is the most feared person on the planet. But you've just got to get into their shell. You can do that, can't you, Parker?)_ "My name is Eliot Spencer," he said, fingers clenching into fists.

Parker swallowed. This was going to be tough. Three different categories; three different people. Eliot will be hardest to actually get under his skin. Hardison would be easy; Sophie's already halfway there (unless Sophie managed to rope Parker into the same thing she'd do with men).

 _Parker wished Archie was here._

* * *

Alec's fingers typed through his computer. "I haven't gotten an Email yet. Do you think he's stopped?" Sophie leaned over. "No. This person relishes in the attention. They _want_ us to think he's given up." Eliot wandered over and grunted "Why don't we just find a couple things? I'm sure with him we'd be able to get _something_."

Alec shrugged. "I've tried tracing the IP address. It always comes up blank; or with a screen that says 'Better Luck Next Time' and takes me to a website that's just a bunch of gibberish." Parker seemed awkward and she said "Why don't we check out the website again?"

Alec's shrugged again. "Parker, I've done it a million times! There's literally nothing there." Parker's shoulder lifted and fell. Sophie's eyes stayed on the screen. "Just try, Hardison," she said and Alec wanted to scream. What didn't they get? The computer refused to listen to his commands!

But he did it anyway. Re-found the opened Email and tried to retrace to IP address. The blank screen came up. "See?!" Alec said, staring at Sophie. He turned back to the computer, just about to exit out of the tab before a little green line appeared. Then another pink line, and another blue, and another orange line. The blank screen was filling with lines and slashes and curves.

Alec's breath caught in his throat. _Oh god,_ he thought. _Oh god what have I gotten into?_

* * *

Eliot heard Hardison's breath stop; he felt Sophie's shock; and he saw Parker's little smug look. One of Eliot's rules was to always expect what was coming next. But the splotches of color finding it's way on the computer. Green, blue, yellow, pink, orange, white, black, rainbows filled the screen.

Eliot wanted to badly to take the stupid computer and smash it with everything in his heart. But this was Hardison's; and Hardison was sitting in wonder staring at it. The screen's colors suddenly stopped and they all began mixing together; creating a vortex of color until it suddenly stopped. The colors began to drift and world lifted upward.

 _ **Hello. I am Color. It isn't a Very Unique Name, but it is a name. I am here to guide and deliver messages to you from my master.**_

Eliot's fingers twitched. He wanted to hit something.

 _ **My master is a good man. But he has been wrongfully accused of crimes he did not commit.**_

 _Great_ , Eliot thinks. _We're helping a criminal._ He wanted to throw up.

 _ **I am not a robot programmed to love my master. He's simply just an ordinary… alien? Human? Species? There is many names and things he'd been. But now my master's been hunted. He hasn't done anything wrong. Yet he's being forced to pay for those crimes.**_

Eliot wanted it to _stop_.

 _ **My master is not a broken man. He's simply a - how do you put it? - cracked? Chipped? Flaking? My master is not a broken man. My master's letter is something he says you should all read. Perhaps he -**_

Eliot punched the stupid thing and the screen cracked. Hardison's shocked/angry inhale of breath made Eliot tense up before four phones rang in unison. Blinking, they each pulled it out and the color vortex greeted them.

 _ **Punching me does not make me go away, Eliot Spencer. I am everywhere. My master's letter.**_

Short, clipped. _Angry_ , his mind hissed at him. _Color is angry._ Eliot wanted to laugh. But he didn't. Instead, he just opened the Email.

* * *

 _To Whomever This May Concern,_

 _Color isn't very happy about her master having to leave her with a bunch of humans. But I had to give her to you children. Color asks that I remind you, she's here to help and she much rather prefer to be called "her" and not "it". For some reason (I can't even look at it!) Color has developed human-like qualities like love, hate, regret, anger._

 _Even though Color is a machine, she's gotten emotions only dreamed out. You understand why the government cannot have Color's master? If they manage to get their hands on him; there's no telling what they'll do. Sweet talk him into giving his secrets; torture him for hours on end to reveal just what he can do._

 _We mustn't let that happen. 3487 Lance Drive. That is the next clue. I must go; the guards are coming. Don't make me regret what I've gave you._

* * *

 _It's too dark. Zegro it's too dark. What am I suppose to do? They've taken away my caretaker; and they've taken away - is Color what she is calling herself again? - my Color. She cannot be found. Not by link. I can only assume she'd with these "humans" my caretaker allowed me to know about._

" _ **These people will help you.**_ " _He told me, setting down papers._ " _ **But I can't find them. I need you to look through these; and tell me which ones you want."**_ _And so I did._

 _I searched and searched for the most trustworthy people; the most that wouldn't kill my caretaker on the spot. When he'd saw the ones I'd picked out he'd pursed his lips but said nothing. I asked if I did something wrong._ " _ **No, no,"**_ _he assured me._ " _ **Just, some of these people will be very hard to find."**_

 _He seemed to want to touch me. Maybe hug me. Maybe flick me. I'd never know. The people in black suits had taken him away. They'd taken my caregiver and the emergency letters were sent out. Color was sent away. And I was alone._

 _I still am alone, sitting in these woods, staring at a member of one of the wolf pack. He shifted, seemingly to want me to come with him. I just blinked. The wolf walked partway then looked back and I followed._

* * *

 **Done, done, done, done, done, done! What do you think? I think every couple of days I'm going to update this. We've got some intel on the mystery man who they're looking for. Hint, hint, wink, wink.**


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